


Flu season has never been kind to Peter Parker

by ChocolateAndRedbull



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Character, Sick Peter, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25311730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateAndRedbull/pseuds/ChocolateAndRedbull
Summary: When Tony gets a call in the middle of The Most Boring Meeting of His Life™️ he’s actually relieved.Until he hears the kid’s voice and knows exactly what’s wrong.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 288





	Flu season has never been kind to Peter Parker

**Author's Note:**

> I know this could be better but I’m sick of looking at it in my unfinished folder sue me

"Tony? It's Peter on the phone," Pepper whispered in his ear, handing the phone to him as he sat in what was probably the most boring meeting he’d ever been forced to sit through. He silently thanked any god willing to listen for the interruption. 

“Go for Stark,” he said quietly, as stepped out of the room.

“Sorry, kid,” he said as the door clicked shut. “Is everything okay?”

"M-M-Mr Stark?" Tony knew what was wrong as soon as he spoke.

His stammer only ever came back when he was sick or nervous.

"Is everything okay, buddy?" he pressed, already knowing what was wrong.

"U-Um, I w-was in the sci-science lab a-and… um, can y-y-you pick m-me up?" Tony could tell that Peter was struggling to talk. “M-May can’t get off w-work.”

"Do you need a new shirt, kiddo?" Tony asked, knowing his tendency to never quite make it to the bathroom.

He heard Peter sigh shakily with relief. "U-Uh, yeah."

"I'll be there soon, buddy," he said, "go and lay down in the nurse's office."

Peter took a shaky breath. "U-Uh, yeah, th-thanks."

Tony just smiled sympathetically and hung up, handing the phone back to Pepper, who had followed him out, as she looked at him questioningly. "Cover for me?"

* * *

"Hi, Tony Stark, here for Peter?" he said to the school nurse.

"Of course, he's just through there," the nurse said, pulling his form towards him.

"He came in to me at 1:30 with two friends, who told me they'd been in the science lab working on a project when he threw up. I took his temperature when he came in which was 101.2 but has since risen to 102.3, and he's been sick twice since he came in," the nurse rattled off. "You can take him home now, I recommend rest and plenty of fluids and he should be just fine."

Tony nodded, signing the form and making his way through the curtain to see Peter curled up on one of the small cots, eyes shut and breathing shakily, a bucket placed on the floor beside him. Ned and Michelle were sitting on the cot next to him, each doing homework while periodically glancing up at their paler than usual friend.

Both Ned and Michelle looked up as Tony walked in, Peter didn’t seem to notice. Tony slowly made his way over to him, carefully sidestepping the bucket on the floor which contained a small amount of vomit. He gently ran his hand through the kid’s hair, smiling softly as he cracked his eyes open.

"Hey buddy," he whispered. "You're not feeling too good, huh?"

Peter swallowed thickly before shaking his head.

Tony hummed sympathetically. "Let's change your shirt and we can go, huh?" he said, eyeing up the wet stain on the front of his t-shirt.

Peter coughed wetly before slowly sitting up, pausing as he tried to settle his stomach.

Ned and Michelle stood up and moved out of the way. "We, uh, we better be getting back to class. Feel better, Peter," Ned said.

Peter gave a small nod, swallowing a sickly hiccup as he watched Ned shoulder his bag and follow Michelle out of the room.

Peter dragged his shirt off and stuffed it into his backpack, taking a shaky breath before pulling the clean t-shirt over his head.

Tony ran his hand through his sweaty hair again as his stomach turned. "I have some plastic bags in the car, we'll be home in no time."

Peter nodded, looking relieved that he could go home. Tony grabbed his backpack in one hand and wrapped his arm around his shoulders as he took wobbly steps towards the door. Tony pulled him closer as he felt the heat radiating off of him.

Eventually they reached the Tower and he helped Peter out of the car before retrieving his backpack from the trunk.

When the elevator doors opened, Peter slowly made his way inside but rather than making his way towards his bedroom, he headed straight for the bathroom.

Tony found him sat on the floor, a leg either side of the toilet as he curled over the bowl, his arms wrapped around his head. He gently rubbed the kid’s back as his stomach churned.

They sat like that for a while as Peter whimpered while his stomach cramped before eventually releasing a sickly belch and spitting into the water. Tony grabbed the thermometer and gently placed it into his ear, Peter twitching as the cool plastic touched his skin.

“Flu season has never been kind to you, huh buddy?” Tony murmured, glancing at the device. “Yeah, that temperature’s gone up again, kid, lets get you to bed.”

Peter shook his head, not moving from his hunched position. 

“Not ready to move just yet? Alright, you stay here and I’m gonna get some stuff ready for when you’re done,” Tony said, rubbing a hand across the kid’s sweaty back.

When Tony returned, the kid was now curled up on the floor, one arm under his head and the other wrapped around his churning stomach. Tony could see a splatter of vomit on the toilet seat where he hadn’t got his head over the bowl in time.

“Alright buddy, I’ve got you the bucket. You ready to hit the hay?” Tony asked, crouching down beside the boy and placing his hand on the kid’s forehead. Peter just shrugged, not opening his eyes.

“Okay, up you get, kid,” Tony encouraged as he helped the boy to stand, pressing the bucket into his hands. “Let’s go.”

It was slow moving, but eventually the boy was in light pyjamas and curled up in bed with the bucket on the floor beside him.

“Right, buddy, Bruce is on his way over with some of that Special Spidey Fever Reducer, but he’s gonna be at least another hour, so why don’t you try and get some shut eye until then?” Tony said fondly, running a hand through the kid’s sweaty hair.

Peter just gave a small nod before curling into himself even more. 

Tony nodded to the bottle of water on the night stand, “Don’t forget to keep drinking, buddy, it keeps away the headache,” Tony murmured. “Tell Friday if you need something.”

Peter just nodded before letting his eyes slide shut.

* * *

Not even 10 minutes later Friday alerted Tony that the kid was in distress and when he pushed the door open he found the bed to be empty but a trail of vomit leading towards the bathroom.

“Pete? You doing okay?” Tony called, knocking lightly on the bathroom door.

“D-Don’t come in!” Peter exclaimed, and Tony was about to question it when he heard the distinct sounds of the kid’s other end emptying itself loudly.

Tony winced and turned away from the door, checking his watch and hoping Bruce was nearly here. Tony was about to step out again to give the kid some privacy before he heard a painful sounding retch come from the bathroom.

Tony grimaced as he eyed the bucket still on the floor beside the bed and headed out the door to find a mop.

* * *

“Alright, where’s the patient?” Bruce said, pushing his glasses further up his nose and setting his bag on the countertop that Tony was leaning against.

“Losing everything he’s ever eaten, from both ends,” Tony said with a sigh.

Bruce grimaced. “That bad, huh?”

“That bad,” Tony agreed.

It was then that Friday interrupted the men.

“Boss? Peter is in need of assistance.” Tony nodded as he stood up and looked towards the door.

“Brace yourself,” he muttered as Bruce grabbed his bag.  
  


* * *

Tony gave Bruce a look before he tapped on Peter’s door, mop and bucket in hand.

“Buddy, can we come in?” Tony called, pushing the door open when he heard the kid’s quiet “uh-huh”.

Peter was sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, looking up at the pair with wide, glossy eyes.

He still had vomit on his chin, his t-shirt and pyjama bottoms covered in greasy wet stains. Tony could see where the kid had tried to wipe up the puke on the hardwood floor but just succeeded in spreading it around more.

Tony dropped the mop and bucket and moved towards the kid, running a comforting hand over his sweaty back.

“Aw, buddy, it’s been a rough day, huh?”

Peter avoided his eyes as he nodded, hiccuping harshly.

“Well Uncle Brucey here is gonna help make you feel better,” Tony said soothingly, and Bruce smiled as Peter looked up at him, bottom lip trembling slightly.

“How about Tony gets started on cleaning up and we’ll see what we can do, eh?” Bruce said, setting his bag down on the bed.

* * *

After the kid was cleaned up, in fresh clothes and full of Bruce’s Spidey Fever Reducers and anti-nausea pills, Tony emerged from the bathroom and immediately placed the mop and bucket in the hallway. He then came back in and sat beside the kid who was curled up in the large bed.

“You feeling any better, kiddo?” he asked, carding his fingers through his sweaty hair.

Peter just shrugged. “M’just tired,” he mumbled.

Tony hummed, “How about you try and get some sleep then, sound good? We’ll be in the living room if you need us.”

Peter just nodded, before curling in on himself even more.

Tony flicked the light off and Bruce shut the door quietly behind him. 

* * *

Once sat on the large sofa with a cup of coffee in hand, Tony heaved out a sigh.

“Kid, hardly ever gets sick but when he does-” He blew out a breath. 

“Very few things are more dangerous than a high school during flu season,” Bruce agreed. “I mean, he’ll be fine, keep him hydrated, maybe try some crackers when he feels up to it. A few days and he’ll be back to terrorising us all.”

“I just hope we can keep that fever down, if it gets any higher and he starts to freak I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle him,” Tony said, and Bruce could tell he was concerned.

“Try not to worry, Tony, he should sleep through most of it, and if his temperature gets any higher just grab him some ice packs, or if he’s able for it, a cool bath.”

Bruce could see Tony’s mind racing. “But I really don’t see it coming to that.”

Tony just glanced at the clock and then back towards the elevator.

“Let him sleep for now, Tony, as long as he can, and keep him comfortable. I’m always on the other end of the phone if you need me,” he said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll both be fine.”

And with that, Tony was on his own. 

“Friday? Let me know if the kid is sick, his temperature changes, hell, if he rolls over. I want to know everything,” Tony said, running a hand through his hair.

“Sure thing, boss.”

Tony nodded and headed towards the kitchen.

* * *

Tony spent the next few hours debating on whether or not to wake the kid up to check on him, but Bruce’s words ran through his head. He was about to give up and go to bed when Friday alerted him that Peter was in distress.

Tony’s heart jumped into his throat as he skid along the hardwood floor in his socks, coming to a stop just outside the kid’s door to hear him muttering and whimpering inside. He pushed the door open with a knock.

“Kid? You doing okay?”

The light from the doorway showed that Peter was still in bed, tangled up in his sheets, twisting and turning, sweat drenched skin glistening. A small whine was heard as the kid tried to twist around in his sheets. Tony crossed the room and put a hand on the kid’s forehead, grimacing at the heat.

“Hey, buddy? C’mon Pete, wake up for me...” Tony gently coaxed. “There we go, that’s it,” he murmured as the kid’s eyes fluttered open.

Peter mumbled something unintelligible as he flopped onto his back, trying to kick the blankets away from his legs.

“Hey, hey, kid, relax, shh, let me help you...” Tony soothed as he pulled the blankets away.

Peter whimpered as he looked around frantically. “I-I don’t— I-I don’t know...” he started, before Tony ran a cool hand through his sweat soaked hair.

“It’s alright, buddy, you don’t have to, just relax and we’ll get you feeling better. How about we get something to drink, yeah?” he suggested, while holding the kid’s water bottle out towards him and helping to prop his head up against the pillows.

Peter just blinked with wet, overwhelmed eyes as he sucked water through the straw. Tony’s heart went out to him.

“I’m gonna get a few things, okay? I’ll be back in a few minutes, buddy.” Peter just watched as Tony left and with a heavy blink he was back, this time bearing a mixing bowl and an ice pack.

“Alright, kiddo, lets get you cooled down a bit,” he hummed, but Peter just blinked absently as Tony wrapped the ice pack in a small towel and placed it gingerly on the back of the kid’s neck. Peter whimpered and rolled away from it before Tony could do anything else.

“Ah-ah, kid, this will make you feel better,” Tony soothed. 

Peter screwed his eyes shut with a whimper.

Tony wrung out a wash cloth in the mixing bowl and used it to gently wipe the kid’s face. “You’re gonna be alright, buddy,” he hummed. Tony continued to shush and calm the boy as his temperature slowly climbed down to a manageable level, letting out a sigh of relief as his breathing evened out and his head slowed dropped to the side. 

Tony decided it was better to stay, and continued to gently cool the kid’s face even after it relaxed in sleep.

He didn’t want to have to see that frantic look in his eyes again.

* * *

When Peter opened his eyes, he was sure he was dreaming when he saw Mr Stark asleep in the armchair in the corner. He glanced toward his nightstand to see a mixing bowl and a melted ice pack, grimacing as he connected the dots.

Tony awoke with snort, as if sensing the kid was watching him. He got up and moved to sit beside him on the bed, running a hand through his hair.

“How’re you feeling, buddy?” he asked, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Better, I think,” Peter sighed, “I’ve missed the beginning of school, though...”

Tony pushed the kid’s arm with a chuckle. “You’re the only teenager I know that has an excuse to get out of school and won’t take it.”

Peter blushed slightly, “I suppose it’s not that bad, I didn’t get a chance to do my homework anyways.”

Tony shook his head. “I’ll never understand you, Underoos,” he said, scratching his stiff neck. “Stay here and I’ll whip us up some breakfast, sound good?”

Peter just nodded before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow with a smile. “Thanks, Mr Stark,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, buddy,” he smiled fondly. “Now shut up and finish that water bottle.”


End file.
